Coma Confessions
by Slightly2Loud
Summary: America has been in a coma for a month now, and England, sick of bottling stuff up, decides to tell him the truth. He's asleep, so he can't hear him, right? UsUk, fluff, you get the picture. Written for my fantastic best friend.


**Yay, oneshots! I'm addicted to writing this stuff at the moment… Anyway, this is a little gift for a friend who likes UsUk. They're not my favourite (Spamano all the way!), but I thought of the idea and decided America and England would fit it. **

**Rawan, if you're reading this, which you'd better, this is to say thank you for being such a great friend this year. Also, I could have written ten Spamano fics in the time it took me to write this, so be grateful. Love you! **

**Guys, if you have any requests for stories, I'd love to take them. Ciao!**

**x Rachel**

* * *

_Alfred, please wake up…_

Arthur sat at Alfred's bedside, holding his hand tightly, watching the heart monitor the whole time. STEADY, it read in the spot next to the heartbeat track. Arthur had begun to hate that word almost as much as the word 'Francis'.

Alfred lay still, pale and expressionless. He'd looked like that for a month now, and it was the worst month of Arthur's life. He came to the hospital every day, to check if Alfred was awake, but with no news, just grave-looking doctors and nurses shaking their heads. That didn't stop Arthur though. He came every day, even cancelling appointments and meetings to visit Alfred.

_He has to make it, _he thought to himself every day. _If he doesn't make it… _

Alfred had more visitors than anyone on the coma ward. Arthur came daily, and his brother Matthew came twice a week. His two drinking buddies, Mathias and Gilbert, came often as well, often being thrown out of the ward for being too loud, and leaving every time with the words, 'get well soon, buddy!' before the door was slammed in their faces. Yao and Ivan came sometimes as well, which was nice of them. Alfred hadn't been the nicest to Ivan in the past, and Yao was still a little cold towards him, but they came anyway. Francis came too, and it was the only time in which he and Arthur could put aside their differences and just sit in silence, watching Alfred.

Arthur still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Alfred was in a coma. Only a month ago he had been drinking and laughing and dancing with his friends every night, and coming back home to he and Arthur's flat at three in the morning, annoying the Brit no end. He had been paired up with Alfred at the start of university, and when he had finally got his degree and his own flat, who had to show up and ask for a room but Alfred. He'd been staying with Arthur ever since.

Before the accident, Arthur had got annoyed with Alfred at coming home so late and getting into his bed instead of his own. When Alfred was drunk, he would forget which bed was his and just sleep with Arthur. Now though, Arthur would do anything to sleep next to the great snoring git again.

Alfred was walking to the store to buy chocolate for his lunch when he had been hit by the bus. The ambulance had called the first number in his phone; Arthur's. Arthur had rushed to the hospital, but it was too late. Alfred had fallen asleep. It was the worst day of Arthur's life.

Now, here he was, sitting next to Alfred as he lay still in his hospital bed. He had given up talking to the American ages ago, but he felt he needed to talk now. He couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Alfred, I need to tell you something," he began, still holding on to his companion's lifeless hand with both his own. "You don't really annoy me as much as you think. In fact, it's more the opposite. I don't actually mind it when you talk really loudly about America, and about home. I quite like listening to your stories. That's why I don't cut you off till the end. And when you hug me in the street, I don't mind that either. The only reason I shove you off and yell at you is that if you were to hug me for any longer I'd end up wanting to hug back.

"I don't actually mind it when you come home drunk and end up sleeping with me," he continued. "In fact, I love it. You don't know it, Alfred, but you always end up hugging me in your sleep, and it's the best feeling in the world, having you so close to me. You're warm and gentle, and I love being in your embrace. I just wish you'd do it more.

"I'd protect you through everything, you know that. If anyone were to hurt you, I'd avenge you. You know that, right? I love your smile, your laugh; I love it when you talk to me about nonsense, jumbled-up stuff, so meaningless that you don't even expect me to listen. But I do, Alfred, I always do. I'll always listen to you.

"You don't know it, but you're beautiful," said Arthur, on a roll, not even noticing Alfred flinch. "You have the most beautiful eyes, the most beautiful hair, the most beautiful face. Whenever I see you across the room, it takes every bit of strength I have not to run over to you and jump into your arms. I hate everyone you love, because I want you for myself. It's not fair, I know, but that's how I feel. I- I love you."

"Good," mumbled Alfred quietly, and Arthur jumped. He looked around for a second, dropping Alfred's hand, before he realised who had spoken. He smiled happily, before he realised what Alfred had said.

"Alfred, I'm sorry, I- I didn't think you'd wake up… h-how much of that did you hear?" he stammered.

"All of it. And you know when I hug you in my sleep?" he muttered, still groggy, and Arthur nodded, shaking.

"That's not an accident. I love you too, Artie," he mumbled, smiling sleepily at Arthur. Arthur grinned, and took his hand again.

"Don't ever leave me like that again," he scolded, and Alfred laughed weakly.

"Doctor! Doctor, patient 128 is awake!" called a nurse from the door, and Arthur was shoved out of the way.

* * *

"Artie?" Alfred asked, and the Brit rolled over to face him, smiling. They were back at home now, and Alfred had asked to sleep with Arthur again.

"Yes?" Arthur replied, before he was pulled into a tight hug from his American companion.

"I'm so happy," the man whispered into Arthur's hair as he hugged him tight, clutching the smaller man to him. "I'm so, so happy."

Arthur laughed, and turned around so that Alfred was hugging him from behind, a feeling he loved. He clasped Alfred's hands in his own, and kissed them gently.

"I love you, Alfred."

"I love you too, Artie."

* * *

**There we go, Rawan, happy? A bit of fluffy UsUk, just for you. I hope you like it, and all you other guys like it too.**

**Review!**


End file.
